A List

“A List”
of my life

“The Practice of Poetry”
an external hard drive of music
160 gig,
cds,
dvds.

a canister of salt and pepper
for food eaten in the Lazy Boy
where I sit.

“Poet’s Companion”
“The Random House Thesaurus College Edition”
necessary for clarity.

“The Bedford Introduction to Literature”
a collection of short stories and poems
taught to my recalcitrant students.

Faulkner, Hemingway, Ellison,
Zora Neal, Langston, Whitman,
Beckett

all for attention beckon.

Franklin Templeton Fund folded on my left.
a future?
perhaps
a future of futility.

a new satellite system
booklet (with Tevo)
sadly beckons
as confusion reigns.

life’s simplicity
so complex.

poetry
from the masters
from me
unchanging.

modern technology
from where?
changes .. changes
and changing again.

life.

complex.
computers.
metaphors
of meaning.

reference guide
to the dish
from the roof
finding positioned
satellites flickering
floating deep in the sky

spreading signals of destruction
from Beirut,
Baghdad,
to Beijing.

keithdsutton

A Glimpse

It was suddenly dark. I wasn’t sure where I was but it was unfamiliar–a seemingly forbidden place. I was not surprised. I was here because my attitude, even my temperament was to frequent the forbidden places we often visit only in our dreams. Anyway here I was but, for the first time, I was extremely uncomfortable. I didn’t belong here.

I remember vaguely, after having a little too much to drink, of hitting a dip in the road about 5 blocks from my house It was May 7th or so about 3am and my Nike sandal got trapped on both the accelerator and the brake My white pickup had taken a beating or two but not like the one it was headed for. I remember speeding uncontrollably , I don’t remember the crash but I recall looking up at a fractured windshield, seeing a tree, and trying to open the driver’s door. Having no success, I exited the passenger door and saw two police officers and an ambulance. From there my world went black.

I waved the ambulance off and headed towards the police cars. That was my last memory for 6 months. I collapsed and quit breathing and was immediately rushed to the emergency room. Thus I began my journey into the deepest, blackest, dark hole of infinite unconsciousness.

This place had no light beckoning me to follow like I had always heard. No!! It was 6 months of dreams, of torment, of hell from which there was no escape. It was punctuated with a mysterious, confusing, unexplainable kiss my wife gave me. For me it marked the end of the day. Or was it? Was it a kiss? Where am I? I seek answers, escape, rescue but none appear. I’m Didi and Gogo in a Beckett play waiting endlessly for godot.